Do aliens really exist?


Andy Kashen
Daytime Dilettante, Nighttime Renaissance Man
Aliens definitely exist and the first time I ever saw them was as a small boy in a rural area outside Cleveland, Ohio. And I have proof.


I should probably preface this in context as a Baby Boomer. My first recollection of what “aliens” were came from Saturday morning cartoons. They came from outer space in flying saucers and they were usually bad, ugly, and green, though some, like Superman, were humanoid and good. So I was prone to be afraid of them, but open-minded.


My dad and I were visiting some guy who was building a new house on small clearing in a heavily wooded area. He wanted my dad’s help with something - I don’t remember what. There were no other houses around and my dad got lost and he was upset because we were late. It was getting darker and the remoteness of the area was a little scary to me.


When we finally found the property my Dad was quiet and looked worried. A guy came out of a parked car near the entrance and my dad got out to meet him in the driveway after telling me to stay put. He also left the car running which was never a good sign. It was then, through the dashboard window, that I first saw these three humanoid creatures milling around in the distance. I was stupefied. All of them had yellow turtle-like shells covering the top of their heads and large translucent blisters covering what appeared to be their eyes. The exposed parts of their skin and hair(?) were darker than ours (I’m white) but not as dark as the few black people I’d seen up to that point (none lived in my small town). Their thoracic area gave off a dim fluorescent yellow and orange glow in the twilight.


My dad and the man were clearly also aware of these humanoids because I saw both men point in their direction in an agitated manner and my father started towards the car several times as if he wanted to leave. So I could tell something was wrong. I rolled down my window to listen but it was hard to hear them over the car engine as they talked in hushed whispers. I also noticed that the humanoids seemed to be communicating with each other too. At first I couldn’t make it out but then they suddenly got much louder as if they were getting mad. However, if what they were speaking was a language, it was certainly unlike anything I’d ever heard before.


Suddenly my dad stopped whispering and started yelling at the man and told him to go do something to himself I didn’t understand at the time. Then he jolted and ran to the car, swiftly got in, and peeled around back to the road in a cloud of dust. For a minute, the only sounds were from the accelerating car engine and tires spinning on gravel. Then I blurted out in panic, “What’s wrong?! What happened?! What was that?!“ My dad angrily pounded the steering wheel with his fist and exploded, “Damn illegal aliens! No way I’m going to work with the Goddamn illegal aliens!” Then he went silent with a scowl on his face.


It was suddenly obvious to me, all of it. The humanoids were indeed aliens. And these must be bad aliens because my dad didn’t like them and they were illegal. Apparently the government knew the aliens existed and were dangerous. Otherwise why would they pass laws making them illegal? All sorts of realizations and new questions begin entering my mind. How many aliens were there? Were they a secret for some reason? Were they all bad/illegal? Was the man talking with my dad working with the aliens to take over the Earth - or just the greater Cleveland area? If so, how did they communicate? I had always wondered why my parents made me lock my car door whenever we went to the city. Prior to my alien encounter I had assumed it might be because of all the black people I saw there since they were also often the bad guys on TV. Now I knew it must be because of the aliens, who were dark, like the black people. Were blacks working with the aliens too? That’s why the city was dangerous and not just the traffic! For me it was one horrifying epiphany after another.


Then I just started blurting out lots of questions at my father in quick succession.
“Are you gonna call the police? The army? Does the President know? Does Mommy?!!!!”


My dad just said, “No, and you don’t need to be telling anybody either. We just need to mind our own business.” I was getting mad and ashamed. My dad was a strapping six foot tall athlete who served our country in the Korean War. Now he was a pitiful coward, complicit in a potential alien invasion, too afraid to say anything. However, on sudden reflection I realized my dad could not be a coward. Obviously the man had threatened my father and our family or my father knew they could. He was protecting me and mommy. I wanted to tell him that I wouldn’t mind risking my life to help stop the aliens. I thought mommy would too but I’m sure learning about the aliens would be a terrible shock to her. Ultimately, I knew these were grown up problems and like with everything else argumentative, I’d just be told I was too young to understand. What could one small boy do? So like a coward, it was I who kept my mouth shut.